by Dorothy Love
Eliza squeezed onto the settee between her sister and me. “Mary, did you have a ball, like in Cinderella?”
I laughed. “All that was missing was the glass slipper.”
Henry and Edward came in then, teasing Robert and me so mercilessly that I felt an emotion akin to panic. To please Papa I had tried to master every task set before me, but mastering three languages seemed much easier than mastering the responsibilities of married life.
I was relieved when the visit ended and Mother returned to Arlington, leaving Robert and me to continue our journey to Fortress Monroe. As our carriage bowled eastward over the narrow road, I slipped my hand into Robert’s. He regarded me with a mixture of worry and tenderness.
“Is something wrong, Robert? If you’re concerned about our accommodations at the fort, you needn’t be. I am quite resigned to living in two rooms.”
“One of them is the size of a piece of chalk. It’s more like a closet with a window in it.”
“I know. I heard you telling Papa about it. Something else is bothering you.”
The clatter of the carriage wheels over a wooden bridge forestalled further comment until we reached the other side.
“I am worried for you, Mary,” he said at last. “You have been so much at home and have seen so little of mankind. I’m afraid the change from Arlington to a garrison of wicked and blasphemous soldiers will be greater and more shocking than you anticipate.”
“Don’t worry about me. I will get used to it.”
As our journey neared its end, I could only pray my words were true.
7 | SELINA
The day Miss Mary sent me back to the house to face Missus after I bled on Miss Mary’s dressing gown, Missus looked at me like I was a worm nibbling on her prized roses. She didn’t whup me or sell me South. But she had promised all of us some candy when we finished the sewing, and she gave my part of it to Kitty and Liza. And she told me I couldn’t come to reading lessons that week, which was worse than missing out on the sweets.
Then sewing time was over and it was Miss Mary’s big day. I wanted to watch the ladies arriving in their fancy dresses and feathered hats, but Mauma sent me to help George and Thursday with the refreshments. We had to tote everything up to the house in covered boxes because it was raining hard, like the seam of the sky had been ripped open and all the water in heaven spilled out. But later on that night the rain stopped.
Mister Custis sent down cakes and hams and such, also some spirits, and told us to eat whatever we wanted. We fell on the food like the locusts from Bible times. The menfolks emptied the bottles of spirits and the grown-ups danced until the last light in the house went out.
While everyone was eating I slipped away and ran up the path to the house. There was people everywhere, talking and dancing and carrying on. I stood at the back door hoping to see Miss Mary in her fancy dress. I had worked for weeks helping sew her wedding things, and I wanted to see how the big day had turned out.
Mister Robert came into the conservatory. I ducked down so he wouldn’t see me and counted to fifty before I raised my head again. And there was Miss Mary standing beside him in a dress the color of fresh-churned butter. It had lace on the top and a skirt the same shape as the bell Missus uses for calling us up for prayers. Her hair was all in long curls and she was laughing.
I stood on my tiptoes so I could see better, and just then she turned her head and saw me. I froze in my tracks and my heart was galloping.
Miss Mary whispered in Mister Robert’s ear, and he put his arms around her and twirled her around. It was the finest sight I had seen in my life so far. When they stopped, she winked at me and then they went back to the parlor and I couldn’t see them anymore.
I thought the next day things would go back to the way they used to be, but the celebrating went on for days, with company coming and going at all hours. One morning I was coming back from the garden toting a basket of squash, and I saw Miss Mary sitting outside the conservatory with her paint box. It was early. The gardens were still wet with dew. The sun had come up butter-soft and hazy.
She waved to me, so I went over to her and set down my basket. “What are you painting?”
She showed me a piece of heavy paper no bigger than a page from my primer. The picture showed a brown-skinned girl just about my size, barefooted and carrying a brown basket on her head. She was wearing a white apron, and behind her was a fence like the one that ran along the winter wheat fields at Arlington.
“Is that me, Miss Mary?”
Before she could say yes or no, Missus appeared at the door and told Miss Mary it was time to come inside and get dressed. Still being the boss, even though Miss Mary was grown up and was now Missus Lee.
Missus Lee packed up her paints and went in the back door. I went on home with my basket of squash, and in a little while the carriage pulled up and Miss Mary and Mister Robert got in. Also Missus Custis. I reckon she wasn’t ready to let go of her only baby girl just yet. Mauma told me they were going visiting to the relatives that hadn’t come to the wedding. Off they went and I got a empty feeling in my chest, thinking I might not see Miss Mary again.
But I was too busy to study for very long on how lonesome it seemed without her. In the mornings, after I milked Lottie, I went to the garden with Mauma to pick what was ready and take it to Thursday—greens and squash and beans, melons and corn. She could make any of it into a feast. When Thursday was cooking, the quarters smelled good any time of day.
Thursday was short and round, with skin the color of cinnamon. She had only one front tooth, and one arm had a shiny pink scar on it where she burned it when she was a girl. Sometimes when my own chores were done, she would put me to work shelling peas or shucking corn, and she taught me songs learned from her mauma a long time ago. Liza said Thursday was ugly as a mud fence, but how that woman could sing. Althea told the best stories, but nobody could sing like Thursday.
One Sunday Ephraim come back from his usual stay acrost the river in Washington City and brought a letter from Miss Mary. First time I had a letter of my own. It was short and sweet.
Dear Selina,
We are settled in at Fortress Monroe. It is quite different from Arlington. But I suppose I will get used to it. This morning as I changed into a fresh petticoat I saw the blue flowers you sewed, and they made me think so fondly of home. What would I give for one stroll on the hills of Arlington on this bright day.
Say your prayers, learn your lessons, and give my love to everyone there.
MC Lee
I read it two times and put it in my pocket. I fed the chickens and then it was time for church. On Sunday nights everybody at Arlington walked through the woods to the chapel for preaching and singing. A white preacher read to us from the Bible. Mostly it was about how slaves supposed to obey their masters, and then there was singing. Some of the songs were long and full of words I didn’t know. Firmament, foundation, omnipotent. But then came the children’s hymns. My favorite was “Old Ralph in the Wood.” Like Miss Mary’s letter, it was short and sweet.
After all the amens we headed for home.
One Sunday Mauma and my daddy were in the clearing talking to George, who cooked for the Custises, and Lawrence, the market man. Kitty was standing next to Missus, waiting on her. Liza and Rose, the laundry girl, were whispering about something. The boys all ran off into the woods.
I started up the path to the quarters. It was a hot summer night, and lightning bugs drifted around my head. When I got near to our cabin, I stopped to check on my baby wrens. I had been watching the nest for a while. I knew by and by the babies would leave the nest, but when I got there that night and saw it was empty I busted out bawling.
Mauma caught up with me and put her arm on my shoulder. “What on earth has got into you, girl?”
“I don’t know. The birds flew away.”
“Well, of course they did. A nest is warm and sturdy while the birds are growin’, but it ain’t nothing but a temporary stopping-off place
. Come on home now. Thursday brought us a slice of pie.”
I ate the pie and it was good, but I couldn’t stop thinking about my wrens and wondering where they had gone. If they were safe. If they missed their home.
8 | MARY
Robert held open the door for me. “Welcome to the Tuileries, dearest,” he joked. “It’s nothing so grand as Arlington, but we’ll be fine, won’t we, Miss Molly?”
I could see how important it was to him that I not be disappointed. He had warned me that we would be sharing quarters with his commanding officer, Captain Talcott, but I hadn’t realized that the captain’s sister, Abigail Hale, her husband, Horace, and their two little girls were also in residence.
Our two rooms had small windows and a dirt floor. A far cry from the French imperial palace. Living in such close quarters with five other people was not the ideal arrangement for a couple married for only a month. But this was the life I had chosen, and I would not repine of it now.
I summoned as much enthusiasm as I could and stood on tiptoe to kiss my handsome husband. “We will indeed be fine.”
While Robert took up his duties with Captain Talcott, I arranged a few furnishings Mother had sent from Arlington. I placed a small table near the window where I might sit to write. I unpacked an oilcloth for the dining table and a small gilt-framed picture Papa had painted when he was a boy. Beside our narrow bed I placed the oil lamp and a crystal vase.
With Cassie to see to the daily chores and Robert attending to his engineering duties, I read and sewed and took short walks with the captain’s young nieces, Rebecca and Catherine. The children were as besotted with my new husband as I was and would run to greet him with shouts of “Lee, Lee!” when he returned home in the evenings. He basked in their attentions and would often bring them a handful of wildflowers or a particularly pretty stone or a clump of red moss, accepting their squeals of delight with his customary courtly grace.
As the summer wore on I took to early-morning walks on the beach and to saltwater bathing with some of the other wives at the fort. We ventured forth by midmorning with children and servants in tow, and remained until late afternoon, sharing news of home and exchanging recipes for pudding or soup while the children splashed in the water.
A Sunday school had been established at the fort, and a chapel that was off-limits to the Negroes, so I was obliged to conduct services for Cassie at home. I took pains with my lessons for her and prayed that my words might fall on a fertile heart.
I missed my newspapers, my daily political discussions with Papa, and most of all reading with my mother. I was delighted when Mrs. Hale suggested we read together. We chose a book about the life of Luther, but the children and servants and the constant racket of the busy fort interrupted so often it was hard to make much progress. Too, we were much occupied with news of the death of President Monroe, who had expired on the Fourth of July. There were many recollections among the ladies of the July Fourth just five years before, when the souls of President Jefferson and President Adams had taken flight within hours of one another.
One afternoon near the end of August I had just returned from Mrs. Hale’s when my husband arrived, clearly agitated.
“Robert? What’s the matter?”
He tossed his hat onto the table and sank heavily into his chair. “Where is Cassie?”
“Outside with Rebecca and Catherine. They’re attempting to tame a white cat that appeared here this morning. Luring him out of hiding with a saucer of milk.”
He blew out a long breath. “Two nights ago a deranged slave called Nat Turner gathered a number of his friends, and together they have slaughtered more than fifty whites. The militia is out looking for them.”
“Dear Lord. Where?”
“In Southampton County. Near Jerusalem.” He passed a hand over his face. “The abolitionists are being blamed for stirring up the Negroes and inciting rebellion.”
I must have looked stricken, for Robert chafed my hands and told me not to worry. “Turner and his murderous band won’t get anywhere near Arlington. Or here either. They’ll be apprehended soon enough. In the meantime, Colonel Eustis has ordered that no Negroes of either sex can be harbored or tolerated inside the fort.”
“What about Cassie? What does he expect me to do with her?”
“Servants of officers are exempt from the rule. So are those working in the hospital and the Quarter Masters Department.”
I stood and began assembling things for tea. Robert and I often dined with the Talcott family, but I liked having tea alone with him in the quiet of the afternoon, when we might speak privately. “That’s sensible, I suppose.”
“Yes, but the rest of his order is not at all sensible. My work crews must come here to procure water and mortar, and my draftsmen own slaves who must enter the fort now and then.”
I sliced some bread and set out butter and the jar of currant jelly Mother had sent from home. “What can you do?”
“I’ve voiced my objections to Colonel Eustis, and to Washington too, but I don’t expect his orders will be countermanded.”
Despite Robert’s assurances as to my safety and that of my home and family, the news of such a murderous rebellion left me feeling unsettled, and more certain than ever that eventually slavery must end. “The sooner the country is rid of human servitude, the better.”
Robert joined me at the small table. I poured tea, and he helped himself to bread and butter.
“Slavery is a terrible legacy. But the problem is one that can be resolved only gradually, and with God’s help.”
“I am pleased you acknowledge the need for Providence.” I didn’t intend to sound so self-righteous. But I was worried. Despite Robert’s early exposure to his mother’s religious teaching, he had not yet seen the need to be confirmed. It was the one thing I found lacking in him.
“So we are back to the subject of my immortal soul, are we?” Robert set down his cup. “Despite what you might think, I am not unacquainted with my Creator, Mary. My mother saw to that when I was a boy.”
“Then why won’t you be confirmed? Then I should have nothing more to wish for on this earth with regard to you.”
“I thought we were discussing the gradual emancipation of the Negroes. At least we are agreed on that point. Though at present they are unfit to make their own way in the world. As to the future, who can say?”
“You say that as if you care little for how long it may take.”
He frowned. “What would you have me do, Mary?”
“Perhaps it would hasten the day if men of influence were more forceful in their support of the Colonization Society. Especially now that President Monroe and your uncle Richard have died. Mother says the value of their wisdom cannot be overstated.”
“You still have Henry Clay and Daniel Webster on your side.”
“Yes, but we women can do little more than write letters and sell flowers to support the cause.”
“I know how passionate you are about this, Mary, but shipping the freedmen off to Liberia is hardly the answer.” Robert finished his first slice of bread and buttered another. “This morning Talcott and I were discussing the possibility that Virginia may outlaw slavery in the wake of this Nat Turner business. I’m sure there will be calls for something to be done, but I can’t imagine enough votes can be mustered to make a two-hundred-year-old institution illegal.” He sipped his tea. “Talcott agrees with you, by the way.”
“About?”
“He is of the opinion that colonization is the only means—short of war—for ending slavery.”
“Then perhaps I can persuade the captain to lend his support to the cause when he is next in Washington City.”
Robert studied me over the rim of his cup. “I have known your feelings on this matter for a long time, but I did not think you were such an abolitionist. After all, you are dependent upon the slaves at Arlington to see to your every need. Are you ready to take on the preparing of meals, the laundering of clothes? The scrubbing of floors
and the emptying of chamber pots?”
“How dare you include me in the group being blamed for this man Turner’s rampage? I am no rabid abolitionist, but I am a realist. You know as well as I do that slavery cannot endure forever. We have a moral obligation to prepare our servants for that day when they are emancipated. Even if my father doesn’t share my—”
The door burst open, and the Hale children rushed inside. Catherine was holding a squirming white cat. “Lee! Look what we got.”
Robert scooted his chair away from the table and took both child and feline onto his lap. “What a fine specimen he is, Miss Catherine. Have you thought of a name for him?”
“I want to call him Frosty because he’s white as frost. But Rebecca thinks we should call him Lucky.”
“Because it’s lucky we found him before he got sick or something.” Rebecca climbed into Robert’s lap with her sister. “Lee, did you bring me anything today?”
“I’m afraid not today.”
“But you will tomorrow,” Catherine said, turning on her most beguiling smile.
Rebecca took his face between her two small hands. “Promise to bring us something special.”
Robert laughed. “Go along, you little flirts. Mrs. Lee and I must dress for dinner.”
Cat in tow, the girls hurried off. Cassie came in to put away our tea things and to help me change my dress. I could feel Robert’s eyes following me as I readied myself for dinner. I knew he was thinking he had proven his point about my dependence on Cassie and the others who served my family at home. I was still smarting from his having called me an abolitionist. So I was in a most contentious mood when we joined Captain Talcott and the Hales at dinner.
In the presence of the captain’s Negro servants, the conversation revolved around the innocuous topics of beach walking, letters from home, and Robert’s progress on his engineering projects. But once we had finished our coffee and cake and the girls were taken off to bed, the captain dismissed his servants for the evening and the five adults crowded into the Talcotts’ rooms, which were hardly larger than ours.
